I've had four dogs. (There seemed to have been dozens when I was a child but they all seemed to find themselves at some farm, running free.) My own four dogs - Buddy, Kitoune, Cosmo and Leo (which I adore) - have taught me one thing: they're utterly useless. Here's why, from evidence I've collected.

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Here's my first, Buddy, who looks really wonderful, doesn't he? But this is actually a picture from a magazine article about me that he insisted on horning in on. Do you think anyone who saw the picture remembers me? No fucking way! This dog was mentioned in virtually every article written about me.

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This is Buddy, again. I could not get away from him - even for a nice hot bath. Love? No. Jealous possessiveness - as in: Are you in here alone or is there some bitch here with you?

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Voilà Kitoune, the day I "rescued" her and brought her home to Buddy. From the 1st day I knew she shouldn't have the name I gave her (a character in one of my plays) - Miss Pissy would have been better. She was the last dog at the pound; doomed to annihilation. It's pure softness on my part that found her in my tub. LOOK AT THE FUCKING WATER!!

The minute I got off the bus a nice-faced man offered to help with my suitcase and take me to my hotel. How nice, I thought, until we got there, I was surrounded by six of his friends and we negotiated his $50 bill down to $20 with me reminding the assembly I was only 15.

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I went into a peepshow and the cashier was yelling at two guys to get back into the booth as the blowjob they were performing had tumbled into public view.

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Porn. Everywhere. Women with animals. Men with animals. "Barbra Streisand" giving a blowjob. Ask and you shall receive.